


Naked and Afraid

by hermyoninny



Series: Bokuroo Week 2016 [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, BoKuroo Week 2016, Day 5, Day 7, Handcuffs, M/M, Mention of Akaashi Keiji, kuroo fucks up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-05-31 23:57:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6492904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermyoninny/pseuds/hermyoninny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo wanted to use the handcuffs from his police officer costume to spice things up in the bedroom on Halloween night. If only they knew it would go so, so wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naked and Afraid

**Author's Note:**

> ***not beta'd. 
> 
> I wanted to write an actual NSFW scene, but I'm not particularly good at those, so have this instead.

When Kuroo said he wanted to try something new, and that something new included the handcuffs from their police uniform costumes, Bokuto was all for it. What he didn't sign up for, however, was to not being able to get out of the handcuffs. 

"Don't freak out," Kuroo said, his voice pulled at the edges with panic. 

"I'm handcuffed to a fucking bed with no way out of them, Kuroo!" Bokuto retorted, rolling his eyes. He was spread-eagle on their bed, his upper half bare and his naked chest visible to all, while his blue slacks from his costume were still being worn. 

"I said I'll find the key!"

"Then, why are we having this conversation instead of you looking?"

Kuroo scratched the back of his neck, a nervous smile on his face. "I don't know where to start," he said, chuckling awkwardly. 

Bokuto tugged painfully on the handcuffs holding him down when he tried to sit up. He winced at the pain before trying -and failing- to glare at his boyfriend. 

"I could call the fire depart-" Kuroo started when Bokuto interrupted him with a wail.

"We will not, under any circumstances, call the fire department to come and cut me out," he stated. It was embarrassing enough that he and Kuroo tried to spice things up like this, let alone have anyone at the fire station know, too. 

"Dude, it might come to that if I can't find the key," Kuroo stated.

"Butter," Bokuto replied.

Kuroo cocked his head to the side, his eyebrow arcing up. "Butter," he repeated. Bokuto nodded encouragingly. "Butter." Kuroo said with new found understanding.

"Butter," Bokuto confirmed. 

"I'm gonna go check to see if we have any butter," Kuroo said, walking backgrounds to their bedroom door. "You can, uhm, stay put."

"I wasn't really planning to do anything else, babe," Bokuto told him. Bokuto watched as Kuroo's cheeks flamed in embarrassment. He opened his mouth once, twice, and three times before deciding it was best to just go get the butter. 

A couple moments later, Kuroo returned with a whole stick of butter in his hand. He walked over to Bokuto's right hand and began unwrapping the stick.

"You think there's a difference between butter and margarine?" Kuroo asked, beginning to paste the butter as best as he could on Bokuto's wrist and the handcuffs interior. 

"Isn't margarine not made from dairy or some shit?" Bokuto questioned. 

Kuroo shrugged, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

"I mean, if they can both be used to make cakes I'm fine with both," he stated, stepping back from Bokuto's hand. "Try and see if it's slick enough to slip through."

Bokuto tried to position himself so the handcuff wasn't digging into his wrist, but more at level with him. 

He tugged, and could almost feel his wrist sliding through, but it still wasn't coated enough.

"Little bit more, maybe," Bokuto suggested, watching Kuroo nod in understanding and going back to work. 

Bokuto watched Kuroo work the butter into every little crevice, his tongue stuck out in concentration. Despite being a tad angry at him (and with good reason), he couldn't deny that his boyfriend was too good for him. Anyone else would have called the fire department to come and save him, but Kuroo stood by his request not to unless absolutely necessary. 

"You know what this reminds me of?" Bokuto piped up, a small smile on his lips even in his current predicament. 

Kuroo hummed out a low hmm that Bokuto was taken aback for a second about how hot that sounded.

"That time we accidentally glued that beer can sword to our hands," Bokuto said. 

"Ah," Kuroo murmured. 

"How did we even get those things off?" Bokuto wondered airily.

"We called Akaashi," Kuroo answered swiftly. 

"Dude, we could totally call Akaashi right now!"

Kuroo looked up at him with a disbelieving look. "It's four in the morning, he'd be fucking pissed, Bo." 

Bokuto deflated, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, you're right."

Kuroo stood up, the stick of butter significantly shorter than before. Kuroo even had some of the slick stuff covering his hands, making them gleam in the artificial lighting. "Go ahead and try now."

Bokuto sat up as best as he could again, and slowly tried to pull his fist through. He relaxed his hand as best as he could. Folding his fingers over the other so his hand now looked like a misshaped triangle, Bokuto twisted his hand down. 

It popped through, stopping just at the wide, bent thumb joint. "Put a little more butter on my thumb, Testu," Bokuto instructed. Kuroo did as he was told, and once he thought it was on thick enough, he stood straight again.

Bokuto twisted his hand again, tugging lightly on the handcuff so it slip off. And, somehow, some way, the dumb thing got past his large fucking hand and his hand was free. 

Bokuto wiggled the shiny and slick hand, a smile blossoming on his face. 

"No fucking way," Kuroo breathed, staring at the free hand. "That's some fucking witchcraft."

"It's called being a genius, search it up," Bokuto teased, sticking his tongue at his dumbfounded boyfriend. 

"I am in complete control of freeing you completely right now," Kuroo told Bokuto. Bokuto snorted, as if he didn't know. "I have control over whether or not to butter up your other hand."

Bokuto's eyes went wide. "You wouldn't," he gasped.

Kuroo stared back at him hard, a deadly smirk on his face. "Try me," he challenged. 

They had a stare off for a moment, before Bokuto caved and lulled his head back against the headboard. 

"Fine, fine, just do what you have to do," he told Kuroo. He could practically feel Kuroo's smug smirk as he moved around to the other side. 

Miraculously, Bokuto's other hand was somehow also freed. It, too, now shone with slick butter. 

Kuroo leaned back against the bed side table as he watched his boyfriend sit up and rub at his sore wrists. 

"Let's never do that again," Bokuto told him.

"I wouldn't say never," Kuroo began.

"Fine, then you'll be the one handcuffed next time," Bokuto shot at Kuroo, a pout on his lips. 

Kuroo thought for a moment. "We're never doing that again," he confirmed. Bokuto stared at his boyfriend for a moment before he burst into laughter. 

"I can't believe I got stuck in handcuffs," he wheezed. It wasn't long before Kuroo cracked and started giggling along with him. 

Bokuto heard the bed side table being knocked into and he turned around to see Kuroo securely wrapping his arms around the thing. 

"Bo," Kuroo said, his entire body still. 

"Yeah?" 

Kuroo reached a hand out and picked something up off the bed side table. He spun on his heel to show Bokuto. 

Held up by his index and thumb was a gleaming single key. It shined in a way that mocked Bokuto, especially since he knew exactly went. 

"Son of a bitch."

**Author's Note:**

> ALRIGHT, STORY TIME
> 
> Bokuto's situation was based off a real experience. Once, I was at a sleepover, and this girl had those like Halloween store handcuffs and she was like, "I bet no one can slip out of these." And me, being the competitive fucking shit I am, took her ass up on that offer. Well, turns out, I'm not very good at shit like that. So, finally, the girl took pity on me and was like, "Here, I'll unlock them." But! Of course, they wouldn't unlock. Obviously the next step was to not tell the hostess' parents, but instead get a shit ton of butter and slather that shit on my hands. I came home the next day with bruises on my wrists and smelling oddly of butter.


End file.
